I wanted to write this amazing post dedicated to our day, divulging every detail, but words really can’t articulate what I want to say. When I think back to that weekend and our wedding day, my heart just fills – with what? I can’t really explain. It just fills…

I thank God for my now brother-in-law who documented the whole weekend because it was such a whirlwind that when it was all over, I couldn’t remember much at all. Thanks to him, I have proof that it wasn’t a dream. And pictures do say what words can’t convey.

So with that said, I’m going to give you the Cliffs Notes version of events. It’s the version that my Cliff would prefer anyway.

There was a rehearsal.

The rehearsal was short and to the point.

There was a rehearsal dinner. With a lamb roast. It was an all day affair.

Preparing the lamb.

The lamb roasting.

The lamb still roasting.

The lamb finally done.

And then this happened. The best wedding gift ever!!! My Stylist Extraordinaire gracing us with an acaplla version of Sweet Transvestite. Love this man!

The Big Day.

My amazing mother-in-law the morning of.

Chelle mentally preparing for her speech that night.

Two beautiful sisters preparing to decorate.

Getting Ready.

Getting ready to get ready.

Still have a phone glued to my ear.

Makeup check with my sister-in-law.

I’m a sucker for suspenders and he knows it.

My mom and grandmother and one of my nephews ready for the big event.

Best brother ever being my bitch for the day.

Stranded and forgotten on the mountain top. Saved by my father-in-law. Late to my own wedding.

Saved the day. Hauled ass up the mountain to grab my girls and me to take us to the church wearing his tux and some tennis shoes. Couldn’t ask for a better father-in-law.

He can wear a suit. The man can definitely wear a suit.

Walking down the aisle with my dad. One of my favorite photos.

The shortest ceremony in all Creation. (it was seriously like 10 minutes in all – there were witnesses and I’m sure my dad was looking at his watch, so he can probably verify it. It’s fine, the preacher had to get to a Tennessee game anyway. He had season tickets.)

Done. This is where the flute blasted This Will Be (An Everlasting Love). Yeah … the flute.

So it happened. The wedding party was thrilled …

10 minutes that have lasted 10 years.

I think we were in the middle of the road here … fake laughing or something?

Dudes being dudes.

My gorgeous sister-in-law.

Then we had the reception back at the lodge. The top floor for dancing, the main floor for food and the bottom floor for football. No matter your interest, there was something for you. So we ate, and we laughed, and mingled. Then it was time to cut the cake.

Now I’m going to pause for a second in my visual narrative because the cake cutting really shouldn’t be a Cliff Note.

It was time to cut the cake and feed each other. It’s tradition. Clifford was totally adorable. He was smiling so much and just so full of joy (which is not a thing ANYONE would EVER accuse my husband of being). He knew nothing about feeding the cake to each other. Every little thing about getting married was totally new to him. Bless his heart …

We cut the cake together and he carved out a small piece to feed me first. It was one of the sweetest moments I have ever shared with Cliff. Anyone that knows him, knows he’s not one for sentimentality, or feelings, or caring about anything in general really, but this moment he was so engaged and so happy. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. I ate the cake he fed me, smiling back at him adoringly. He looked down at me all starry eyed and glowing. Then he opened his mouth for me to feed him in return.

Now, I readily admit I am probably a very wretched wretched human being for what I was about to do, but I’d made a promise to myself when I was a girl that no matter who I married, this was going to happen. So know that if I’d married you, I would have done the same damn thing.

I took the cake and held it up to him. He leaned in … then I smashed it in his face. And then I smeared it all around after I smashed it. Clifford was STUNNED. He just looked at me with the most stricken expression I’d probably ever seen him wear. Everyone was laughing. After a moment, he laughed, too, but he kept giving me a look like what the hell? He never saw it coming. It was priceless. But because I love him, I leaned up and kissed him, getting it on my face, too.

So beautiful.

So sweet.

So naive.

I think the part that sealed it for me was when we were cleaning our faces in the bathroom. There was purple icing everywhere (I was going through a purple phase – don’t judge). As we were wiping things down, Clifford looked at me. He’s only given me sad puppy dog eyes once in my life and this was it. The saddest, most pathetic puppiest of puppy eyes were on me as he said, in his little South African accent, “Why would you do that to me? I don’t understand.” I just can’t with this one!

I started laughing all over again. He looked even more confused. I explained to him it’s a thing. It’s a tradition to feed the cake and shove it in their face. I watched his eyes as he was trying to process what I was saying and then as understanding set in. “Oh.” He began to laugh. Then he laughed harder.

Clifford, suddenly not laughing:  “But wait, then why did I go first? Because I didn’t know…”

Me: “Because you didn’t know.”

Continuing on with the abridged version of events.

Chelle smoaking hot after giving a great speech.

Darewood being Darewood.

Our first and only dance. Ever.

My Stylist Extraordinaire once again demonstrating how he is seriously the coolest Cat I know.

Did I mention Stylist Extraordinaire may have had a DANCE OFF with my dad? …. Yeah. They did – and to all who know my dad, seriously, they did.

One word: Evidence

The only drink I had all day. I know, right? And there was an abundance of booze, let me tell you.

Dancing? Singing? I don’t know, but having one hell of a good time.

Did I mention my dad looking at his watch? Always with the watch.

It had finally come to an end. My last memory of our wedding reception was walking to Chelle’s cabin with my husband in tow. We were staying there for the night. As we peered through the sliding glass doors to the bottom level of the lodge. There was my father, Clifford’s father, and my uncle opening another bottle of wine. It was 3AM.

Just add my father-in-law to this exact scene and that was 3AM on my wedding night.

And that’s what happened ten years ago today. I love you Clifford Stanislas Geiselmayr.

That moment everyone should have.

The Plan was half-assed. I can admit it because hindsight is 20/20. Didn’t really need hindsight though to conclude that my efforts in planning our wedding weren’t exactly 100%.

The funny thing is, I am a total control freak. I thought I’d be this ridiculous bridezilla about stuff. So not the case. I basically cared less and became less stressed as the wedding approached. Don’t get me wrong, after the kinda proposal, I did buy a bunch of magazines and grabbed a binder, but I think I just knew some things were going to be out of my hands and it was what it was. As long as Clifford was there and I was there and we were saying “I do”, well, sometimes you have to be happy with that.

Anyway, I was engaged. It was time for the The Plan to be formulated.  After When was decided, the next issue was Where.

Clifford hates people. He was all about a small wedding. I am a cheap person who was also broke. So I was all about a small wedding, too.  I wanted a religious ceremony. Clifford deferred to me on that. Though I wanted a religious ceremony, I didn’t want to get married in Indiana or in my childhood church, nor was I feeling particularly attached to Georgia at the time. We did discuss what we were hoping to achieve with a wedding. We’d basically been together for 6 or 7 years by that point, so it was a fair question to ask.

I wanted a religious commitment, a union blessed by the Church. Clifford just wanted it to be over with. We both agreed we wanted the event to be a celebration, and we wanted our families to get to know each other better. Of course they’d met a few times at things over the years, but we looked at our marriage as the unification of not two individuals, but of two families. It was settled. We were getting married in the mountains and it was going to be a four-day affair. Everyone in our immediate families would be staying under one roof and we would live it up like Reagan just got reelected. Except there would be no cocaine. There was a lot of cocaine in ’84.

I started searching rental listings on the internet near Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We needed to accommodate around 30 people overnight. I have four siblings who had spouses and in some cases a couple of kids. I had my folks, my grandmother and one of my uncles as well. This was my immediate family. Clifford was an immigrant so he didn’t have much family here. He had his mom, his dad and his sister, but also what I always considered his adopted family in the States – the Orffs. Three boys, Mr. and Mrs. Orff and Aunt Lee and Uncle Bob. It was going to be a pretty big house party.

I found Tanasi Lodge on VRBO. It is technically in Sevierville near Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. When I was younger, The Great Smoky Mountains was one of the places we’d vacation to as a family, so I always loved it there. Clifford loved it, too. The house was gorgeous and fairly new. It had probably the steepest drive I’d ever seen and hadn’t even been paved at the time. We were the first to have a wedding party there. It was three stories and had porches on the East and West sides so you could watch the sunset and the sunrise.

Tanasi Lodge in Sevierville, TN

Back of the house.

The house at night.

It was truly breathtaking. The Where was official.

Time to get us a minister. I was torn between an outdoor and an indoor ceremony. We knew the reception would be back at the lodge. We could set up chairs there to do the ceremony outside or look for a church. I am Methodist, so that was my preference even though Clifford had been raised Catholic, he wasn’t practicing, so the pastor to perform the ceremony was up to me.

I had called a few places, been put in touch with a man of the cloth or two… My favorite was the Baptist minister who told me he could absolutely marry us but just so I knew, Clifford would ultimately burn in Hell. I am SO not kidding. I didn’t go with that guy.

Clifford’s one contribution to where the ceremony would be held — I don’t remember where we were, but I remember his words, “I always thought it’d be nice to get married in a little white church.” Wow. Never thought I’d hear that from him. It made me smile and it was his only two cents about the whole thing, so I ran with it.

I had researched all of these chapels in Gatlinburg only to find when visiting Tanasi Lodge, that at the base of the mountain, before heading toward the house, there was a little white Methodist church.

The little white church.

I contacted them, and though it was irregular for them to wed and rent the church to people from out of town, they made an exception for us. It was kismet. Ceremony booked.

The Plan was coming together.

We would arrive on a Thursday. The Bachelor and Bachelorette parties would take place then. Friday would be the rehearsal dinner and not just for those involved in the wedding, but we would have a lamb roast for everyone in town at that time. The ceremony and reception would take place on Saturday, and Sunday would be spent with family and friends before saying adieu. 65 people would be invited. I believe 60 showed up. It would be small and intimate and a blast if I had anything to say about it.

Next up – the Bachelorette party and the rehearsal day. Here’s a little tease …you know Gatlinburg has like one bar, right? (or at least back in the day it did) Best.Bachelorette Party. Ever.